Half-way Through
half-way through
a love poem
you tell me
you will
finish it soon
will it be
about you
and me?
not to hurt me
you choose
not to finish
deep within
is the pain
of the truth
for how many
years will you
be hiding
away from
its face?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Song -- Rondeau
Finish these langours! Oh! I'm sick
Of dying airs, I know the trick;
Long since I've learn'd to well explain
Th'unmeaning cant of fire and pain,
And see through all the senseless lies
Of burning darts from killing eyes;
I'm tir'd with this continual rout
Of bowing low and leading out.
Finish, &c.
Finish this tedious dangling trade,
By which so many fools are made;
For fools they are, whom you can please
By such affected airs as these:
At opera near my box to stand,
And slyly press the given hand,
Thus may you wait whole years in vain;
But sure you would, were you in pain.
Finish, &c.
poem by Lady Mary Wortley Montagu
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Finish What You Started
(m. malamet/a. roboff/a. lang/d. lambert)
So, near yet so far
Thats how it is
Oh, thats how you are
What more can I do?
These walls wont let me get through
But if I know you, you will
Chorus:
Finish what you started
Youll come back to me
I know its gonna feel, baby
Like it used to be
So finish what you started
I will wait for you
I know where I stand
A fool for your love
Oh, thats what I am
Im losin control
Youre down too deep in my soul
To let you go, wont ya
(repeat chorus)
Im standing here shakin
Wonderin if you let me in
Oh, dont watch my heart breakin
Knowing what we could have been
What more can I do?
Your heart just wont let me through
But if I know you (finish what you started)
And I think I know you, baby (finish what you started)
And you can really show me if
You finish what you started
Youll come back to me
I know its gonna feel, baby
Like it used to be
So finish what you started
I will wait for you
I will wait for you (ahh)
Finish what you started
Im gonna wait for you
Finish what you started
Dont you keep me waitin (ohhh)
Finish what you started (ohhh)
Finish what you started
Youll come back to me
I know its gonna feel baby
Like it used to be
So finish what you started
I will wait for you
song performed by by Lea Salonga
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Musing on mortality
Musing on mortality.
Though we all start on equal terms
Your life experience will affirm.
All finish up as food for worms.
Some will win whilst others lose
We have no choice we can’t refuse
All finish up as food for worms.
Although we strive to stay alive
By any means we can contrive.
All finish up as food for worms
Some settle for cremation
An act of desperation.
All finish up as food for worms
Although the ashes are broadcast
They mingle with the soil at last.
All finish up as food for worms
That is the way it’s meant to be.
There is no doubt eventually.
All finish up as food for worms
The only true equality
Is found within the cemetery
ALL FINISH UP AS FOOD FOR WORMS.
SUNDAY,11 DECEMBER 2011
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Life's End
Then life was a wonderful happiness,
If its commencement was fulfilled by soceity,
If its finish was not of unhappiness
And the ending was its finish,
The very same as Fate.
One loved the purpose of existing on the World
As we were thrust headlong into peril of work
Yet made a finish.
The perils are to demand a finish,
and leave us with splendour,
To find Height at the Heaven.
poem by Naveed Akram
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I Too, Like An Unfinished Poem
an unfinished poem sounds like
an incomplete sentence
sometimes just a predicate without a subject
like love unrequited
a verb without a noun
an adjective so misplaced that
it calls for an adverb
it is more like a mouth
that opens but says only some syllables
though you as the reader
understands what the poet
wants to stress and mean and accentuate
for some parts of the poem are meant
not to be finished sometimes
in fact, they are meant to be concealed
and well covered like a bikini
to your.........or the prohibited love
you still keep in your........
or the memories that hurt you and are meant
to be unsaid.......you still want her not to
know..........
i, too, like an unfinished poem
like the sketch of your secret love many, many years ago,
once when you were young
the face is unfinished, you have not drawn the eyes
of that love so profuse that no canvass could ever contain
you still like this love unfinished, who knows
the ripe time comes and both of you
will finish
the unfinished love poem soon......
or some poems cannot ever be finished
because the words to complete them still
do not exist
or they are simply missing,
too lost like you,
they are not there yet to a feeling so new
so fragile and so indescribable.....
so rare........
and i, really, like it that way the poem
unfinishes itself
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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To finish a work? To finish a picture? What nonsense! To finish it means to be through with it, to kill it, to rid it of its soul, to give it its final blow the coup de grace for the painter as well as for the picture.
quote by Pablo Picasso
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Variation Of The Other Poem
when you are about
to squirt
and finish half of it
bad luck
blackout comes
the poem
gets half-cooked
and you
go upstairs
and sleep on
the bamboo bed
eyes staring
at the ceiling
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Write A Poem That Hurts Somebody
to tell the truth
that hurts a friend
how to make a poem
like that?
something runs from my fingers
to the keyboard
about a friend that i never like to hurt
or you
the reader whom i do not know much
but expect much from me
i shall write the truth of a suffering
monk, a human body misshapen
by centuries of tradition
of women veiled unable to drive their
own cars
of children molested by priests
of an apologizing Pope
about airplane crashes involving
your loved ones
about boats capsizing in the island
off Mali
volleyed by pirates
about love that betrayed love
about life that cuts itself
in one instance
about the blink of an eye
and the slashing of the wrist of life
writs of censure
and lust
i will continue writing about the other truths tonight
one involving you
but i shall not finish it
but keep it
i wish no pain
never again.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Gone To Forget To Leave
There are those who may choose to die.
For whatever reason...
Eyes are wanting to feel,
A realness and not a friction to absorb.
When platters of gold filled deceit,
Offer nothing else to be fed....
With a side order of sincerity seen,
Or felt to mention.
'Gone to forget to leave'
And the feasting of this is encouraged.
Until dishonesty is all that one dreads.
With a wish to numb the head,
From the stirrings that occur from truths.
And although the eating of deceit weakens,
On a daily basis when that addiction eats...
A cry goes unheard.
A sickening overwhelms...
And,
A wish to be released from it increases.
'Gone to forget to leave'
An encouraged emotionally abandoned mind...
Feeds until the peace of eternal rest has come,
Of what is wished.
And with a consciousness,
Desperately wanting transistion now a mission...
But never accepted to come from one so...
Talented and gifted!
But hurting from a place...
No one took the time to touch to get to know,
And so much pain was inside hiding.
And what was known to God,
Has joined the stars awaiting.
Pain was inside hiding.
Pain was inside hiding.
And what was known to God,
Has joined...
With the others worthy.
Pain was inside hiding.
Pain was inside hiding.
And what was known,
To God...
Has joined,
Eternity!
Goodbye to pain inside there hiding.
Pain inside there hiding.
No more pain inside there hiding.
Pain inside there hiding.
Gone is pain inside there hiding.
Pain inside there hiding.
There's no pain inside there hiding.
Pain inside there hiding.
Gone...
Pain inside there hiding.
Pain inside there hiding.
Gone...
Pain inside there hiding.
Pain inside there hiding.
Gone...
Pain inside there hiding.
Pain inside there hiding.
There's no pain inside there hiding,
Gone.
Gone to forget to leave.
That pain inside there hiding!
Gone to forget to leave.
That pain inside there hiding!
Gone to forget to leave.
There's no pain inside there hiding.
Gone to forget to leave.
Gone to forget to leave.
There's no pain inside there hiding.
Gone.
Gone to forget to leave.
Gone.
Gone to forget to leave.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Write a lot. And finish what you write. Don't join writer's clubs and go sit around having coffee reading pieces of your manuscript to people. Write it. Finish it. I set those rules up years ago, and nothing's changed.
quote by Jerry Pournelle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Things to do
A book to read,
a poem to write,
a chapter to learn,
homework to do,
a book to finish writing,
what is it to be busy?
Is it that you have a lot to do?
You can always cancel or take your time.
Why haste then?
Why not take interest in life?
Do not waste your life,
you'll have time to finish your to do list.
poem by Anne Unknown
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I'm Going To Finish This Poem!
I'm going to finish this poem!
Yes, just you wait and see!
This isn't some fancy or whim
Or flight of fantasy!
No, I'll finish the thing today!
Not 'some day'… 'later on'!
In fact, I'm not going away
Until its light has shone!
'Cos half an insight's not worth much –
It doesn't help a jot!
I'm staying here! I shall not budge
Until I've done the lot!
I'll make no coffee, make no tea,
No cocoa, not a drop!
I'll strive to solve the mystery
And then, by God, I'll stop!
I'd like each heart to comprehend…
Here's my 'labour of love'!
Just thirty lines, that's all, my friend!
I think they'll prove enough…
While others sleep, I stay awake,
Intent on rhymes untold!
They're like the icing on the cake
That help my tale unfold!
I'm almost there! Not much to ask!
Just seven lines to do!
Now six completes my noble task!
Now five! I'm almost through!
Four lines to go, then off to bed!
Thank God for future themes!
It's time to rest my weary head!
I'VE DONE IT! PLEASANT DREAMS! !
poem by Denis Martindale
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Finish Line
Wind blows snow outside my windows
Crowd below runs wild in the streets
Two rented brothers race down two separate alleys
Heading for the finish line
Down in the train yard out by the stockyard
Butchers with aprons hack meat in the snow
Blood has the brothers pulsing with envy
Heading for the finish line
Two rented brothers. their faces keep changing
Just like these feelings I have for you
And nothings forever not even five minutes
When youre headed for the finish line
Down in the depot out by the meat rack
Down by the tunnels surrounding the jail
Prisoners are marching in squares and in circles
Theyre heading for the finish line
Theyre lining up for noahs ark
Theyre stabbing each other in the dark
Saluting a flag made of some rich guys socks
Heading for the finish line
Close to the line the ice is cracking
Two rented feelings sitting in the stands
Two mothers, two fathers and both of them are paid for
All of a sudden it comes back to me
Just up ahead is the finish line
Two rented referees and two checkered rags
Out of the corner of my eye comes a dark horse with black wings
Headed for the finish line
Im five years old the room is fuzzy
I think theres also a very young girl
Its hard to remember what happened exactly
As Im staring at the finish line
First came fire then came light
Then came feeling then cane sight
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alameda
You walk down alameda shuffling your deck of trick cards over everyone
Like some precious only son
Face down, bow to the champion
You walk down alameda looking at the cracks in the sidewalk
Thinking about your friends
How you maintain all them in a constant state of suspense
For your own protection over their affection
Nobody broke your heart
You broke your own because you cant finish what you start
Walk down alameda brushing off the nightmare you wish
Could plague me when Im awake
And now you see your first mistake was thinking that you could relate
For one or two minutes she liked you
But the fix is in
Youre all pretension
I never pay attention
Nobody broke your heart
You broke your own because you cant finish what you start
Nobody broke your heart
You broke your own because you cant finish what you start
Nobody broke your heart
You broke your own because you cant finish what you start
Nobody broke your heart
If youre alone it must be you that wants to be apart
song performed by by Elliott Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This is a poem....
This isn't a poem of one direction,
This is a poem about perfection.
This isn't a poem about who won the election,
This is a poem about correction.
This isn't a poem of getting it right,
This is a poem of standing up to fight.
This isn't a poem of being lost like a kite,
This is a poem about trying to find the light.
This isn't a poem of running tears,
This is a poem about chasing your fears.
This isn't a poem of love and hate,
This is a poem of destiny and fate.
This isn't a poem of the end,
This is a poem of a heart unable to mend.
This isn't a poem of cruilty and pain,
This is a poem of a thng i need to gain.
This isn't a poem of shame,
This is a poem of fame.
Thsi isn't a poem of the life i let loose,
THIS IS A POEM OF THE TRUTH.
poem by Tammie LilAimo
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The World Looks Upon Us With Worried Eyes
look at us who want to really finish the work
this afternoon
look at us being looked at the world with
worried eyes
it is reminding that if we finish this work
on time
the work shall soon finish us
earlier than expected
look at this world that looks down upon us
it is not sleeping
it keeps reminding that there is no apocalypse
of earth and rock
the sun will always be there until it finds us all gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I will write a poem that will say the truth
This poem I will write and it will tell the truth
The candid truth, the whole candid truth and nothing
But the miserable truth
And this will hurt you and all of you who consider me a friend
The words are carefully chosen and the
Lines screened with so much introspection
This poem will tell you who you really are
No holds bar, no second thoughts
No consideration at all that you may hate me
I, who want, always to be loved and be popular
I am tired of lying and telling what is not in my mind,
I will now write the truth about you and the whole world,
This poem will hurt you and this world
And the whole world will be angry about me writing this poem,
This poem will bring you into harsh awakenings
And this will surely shake you and hurt you and you will never
Talk to me again and you will wish me ill and you will curse the day that I was born.
This poem will make you hate me forever but for one thing
I still have no courage to show it to you, perhaps later when I am
All ready to be despised, hated and finally discarded from your minds.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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438
To Choose Between A
Hot Breakfast Ready On The Table
And Finishing Another Poem
I Choose The Breakfast
Together With My Wife
This Poem Can Be Suspended
In Time
And Become Another Unfinished
Act Of Creation
By A Man Wanting To Fill This
World With Poems
After A While
When I Have My Fill And When
I Make Some Nice Conversations With My Wife
And My Dog Beside The Table
Looking At Me
For A Piece Of Fried Pork
When The Sipping Of Coffee Is Over
When I Finally Wipe My
Chin With The Sky Blue Napkin
When I Consider
Eating As Finally Over
As Promised
I Will Come Back Again
And Finish This Poem
And There Is Something
Nice In This
Act Of Creation
You Feel It
It Is Warm Like The Hand Of
A Beautiful Woman
It Is As Hot As Ever
Like This Wanton Desire
Lovely,
As Lovely As You Love Each Letter
Of The Word
Of Your Poetry
I Am Feeling It In The Bone
Of My Soul
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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1st To The Finish!
1st to the finish!
Backed by your love;
Polish, Irish, finish, accomplish, dish, Kish, fish! !
And like the muse of love in the garden of peace,
But, this race is all about the muse of all races.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Breakfast Is Ready
(7: 45 in the morning)
to choose between a
hot breakfast ready on the table
and finishing another poem
i choose the breakfast
together with my wife
this poem can be suspended
in time
and become another unfinished
act of creation
by a man wanting to fill this
world with poems
after a while
when i have my fill and when
i make some nice conversations with my wife
and my dog beside the table
looking at me
for a piece of fried pork
when the sipping of coffee is over
when i finally wipe my
chin with the sky blue napkin
when i consider
eating as finally over
as promised
i will come back again
and finish this poem
and there is something
nice in this
act of creation
you feel it
it is warm like the hand of
a beautiful woman
it is as hot as ever
like this wanton desire
lovely,
as lovely as you love each letter
of the word
of your poetry
i am feeling it in the bone
of my soul
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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